


Ballerina

by SomeFicOnTheInternet



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ballet, Death, Illness, Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 14:23:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18758212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeFicOnTheInternet/pseuds/SomeFicOnTheInternet
Summary: "She started hopeful and bright eyed, the same little girl with the same big dream as all the others. Plain faced and average in every way imaginable, luck would get her nowhere. So she put in effort."We had a personal response assignment in English, the image we were given an image of a worn ballet slipper and were asked about the effects of hard work on ourselves and others. I asked for permission to post it online when i was done, this is the short story I wrote.





	Ballerina

She started hopeful and bright eyed, the same little girl with the same big dream as all the others. Plain faced and average in every way imaginable, luck would get her nowhere. So she put in effort. Begging parents for lessons, practicing standing on the tips of her toes, jumping and spinning whenever she had the chance. Her dad was doubtful and her mom thought it would pass, but when she was six they bought her a pair of slippers. They were second hand, pre-sewn and slightly worn. Someone in her class owned them before and decided dancing was too hard and the shoes hurt their feet, but she loved them. Everyday she would come home and put on the shoes despite them not fitting quite right, she would stretch and stand on point. Often times she would fall, the second hand slippers not being able to support her, but she always got back up again. 

In time the slippers wore down. The point became soft and the support diminished, they hurt her when she used them but she would not give up so soon. For her birthday her Uncle got her new slippers, ones that fit correctly and she could break in herself. Her parents agreed to take her to lessons, on the condition she could not just drop out. She was ecstatic as her lessons started. The teacher was hard on her, pushing her more than she ever had herself, constantly correcting her movement, posture, timing. It was a special kind of torture, one she was glad to return to every lesson. By the time she needed new shoes she had worked herself to the bone, her parents and teachers could see her dedication and gave her full support. 

Years went on and she practiced whenever she could. During lessons, after school, over weekends. She had won awards and performed for crowds. She had good performances, when everyone in the room would stand in applause when it was over, and she had bad performances, when she had stumbled and would hear the whispers after show about how she had messed up. Either way she would try again the next time pushing herself to fix any mistakes. Wearing herself out like the shoes she had worn all her life. 

Hard work through all of both middle and high school resulted in scholarships, and those scholarships lead to her getting into university. Though high stress from advanced courses kept her up at night and the lack of funds left her skipping meals more often than not she continued to dance. She focused on practicing as much as she could, rarely missing set lessons and pushing to continue growth instead of falling behind with work. With money hard to come by, and her being too stubborn to ask for financial help she had little money to spend on herself. So when her slippers became worn down she could not get new ones, and her shoes stayed worn. She quickly became sick

She was overworked. Stressed, hungry and eventually hospitalized. Stubborn as she was she told everyone she was fine and her family stayed blissfully unaware of her condition. Though she fought hard against her illness worsened. Her family got a call, 6:47 in the morning, their daughter did not make it through the night. She had pushed herself too hard, was too focused on dance her health not a concern. No one was to blame but the demons of perfection that plagued her mind ever since she picked up her first pair of ballet slippers. 

Abby Lindal was a wonderful, ambitious woman and I am honoured to speak at her funeral. She will be gravely missed by everyone, both here in this room and those who couldn’t make it, as her dedication for her art was an inspiration to all of us. It is upsetting to know that something she had put so much time and pride in led to her passing, her hard work her downfall, and the ballet slippers, worn down so many times until the end where they have been worn practically beyond recognition, a sick metaphor for her life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this, I'm sure there was more enjoyable works you could have read instead. I am rather proud of this, criticism is welcome, positive and negative. Thank you again, enjoy the rest of your day.


End file.
